Young and old impacted 2006

December 31, 2006|JASON KELLY

Max Kellerman, who you may remember from such shows as "Around the Horn: The Early Years", went off on one of those talk-radio rants the other day. He rambled about how Tiger Woods didn't deserve to be named the Best Male Athlete of the Year by the Associated Press. Not because Kellerman didn't consider golf a sport -- he just felt it didn't require Woods to display enough athleticism to judge him in that category. By Kellerman's definition, the "best athlete" must be an NFL or NBA player by default. Some big guy who can run fast, jump high and absorb physical punishment. Never mind the psychological dynamics of competition, or the specialized skills required in golf. Whatever. Awards exist to spark debate as much as reward achievement. Comparing apples and oranges and pears (if Phil Mickelson's a nominee) across the spectrum of sports for that particular, and not particularly coveted, AP prize illustrate that. Somewhere in his multi-segment screed against the "monkeys" who voted for Woods, Kellerman raised a reasonable point. He brought up one indisputable athlete in anyone's estimation, who made an impact this calendar year that has been overlooked in the Auld Lang Syne parade of Best This and Most Valuable That. Not Roger Federer for his isolated dominance in tennis. Not Dwyane Wade, the NBA champion who inspired so much swooning and marketing. Not Jerome Bettis or Jim Leyland, the aging, feel-good throwbacks who formed a steel bridge between Detroit and Pittsburgh. None of those guys, although like Woods, all of them deserved a mention for producing remarkable, memorable moments in 2006. For pure athletic achievement, measured against the spread, one Young man beat them all. A college champion and an NFL franchise mechanic, playing the most important and scrutinized position in sports, winning it all at one level and jumping to the next without even grazing the bar. Ladies and gentlemen, the Wonderlic wunderkind of 2006 ... Vince Young. Vince Young, who steered the Texas Longhorns to as many BCS titles as the USC dynasty he ended last Jan. 4. Vince Young, whose rumored 6 out of 50 on the Wonderlic test before the NFL draft raised questions about his competency to play quarterback at that level. Vince Young, who led the Tennessee Titans to six straight wins and eight in 12 games as a rookie starter. From beating mighty USC to blossoming into an NFL leader at so tender an age, nobody expected a fraction of what Young produced. Nobody had a right to expect it under the circumstances, all the more reason why his 2006 stands above all the achievements on the field. Off the field, meanwhile, the year belonged to Buck O'Neil, an ambassador for baseball and a paragon of grace. Unlike the modern athletic parlor game of searching for disrespect under every rock, O'Neil experienced it his whole life and never admitted to an emotion other than joy. From the Negro Leagues to the last buoyant year of his life, he endured denial after denial with a rare dignity. When the Baseball Hall of Fame shamed itself with his omission from its class of Negro League legends, O'Neil agreed to speak on behalf of the inductees, grateful for the invitation. "I took along with the other president and I got to hug his wife Hillary, so I've done a lot of things I like doing," O'Neil said from the podium in Cooperstown, "but I'd rather be right here right now representing these people that helped build a bridge across the chasm of prejudice." O'Neil died in October at age 94, and not everyone honored his memory with the same unifying spirit. Carmelo Anthony threw a punch and skittered away, damaging both his street and cul-de-sac cred in the same motion. Baseball players continued to treat brushback pitches like the Pearl Harbor attack without one lament about the influence of dugout-clearing fights on the nation's impressionable youth or the impact on the sport's image. Zinedine Zidane knocked himself, and by extension France, out of the World Cup title match with one thrust of his hot head. And Terrell Owens, who has 25 million reasons to be half the man Buck O'Neil was, complained about the lack of passes Dallas Cowboys quarterback Tony Romo gave him the opportunity to drop.